Breaking Free
by This Guilty Blood
Summary: Clary craved freedom from the shackles of royal life. Jace wanted to restore his family's name.   A short story of love and freedom. Beta'd by Feralness-is-me
1. Chapter 1

_**~One~**_

The wind blew hard and fast; Clary's hair flew out behind her in tangled waves. Below her, the sea crashed against the cliff and the gulls cried; this was her favorite place in the world to sit and think.

She'd been coming to the cliff tops since she was a little girl, mostly because they were close enough to the palace that she didn't require a guard, and far enough that it had some semblance of privacy.

Privacy. What a funny word. Honestly, it was something that was notably missing from the princess's life. A life that was about to change drastically.

In three days, she would be twenty years old and her father had gotten it into his head that it was a suitable age for marriage.

The problem with being from the royal line was that it left you no choice but to follow protocol. So, while Clary didn't necessarily agree with the decision, she did have to abide by it.

As the only child born to Prince Lucian and Crown Princess Jocelyn, Clary was required to marry well and carry on the family name.

Clary threw the little flat rock that she had been turning over in her fingers out into the water, and gathering her many layers of skirts she made her way back to her gilded courtyard knowing that tomorrow the suitors would begin to arrive.

The idea both thrilled and terrified her in equal measures. She wasn't ready to be a wife, she wasn't ready to leave the comfort of her childhood home, but she was ready to live.

That night, when Clary dreamed, it was of an angel-faced prince that would sweep her off her feet, and show her the world.

**~0~**

In a town not so far away, two banished brothers readied themselves for travel. They had caught word that Princess Clarissa was accepting suitors.

"Neither of us has seen the princess since we were children. What if she does not remember us?" Alec mused.

"I think the thing to worry about, brother, is if she does remember us. Or worse still, if Prince Lucian recognizes us. Banishment is a serious punishment, if he knew who our parents were there would be no chance he'd allow us within a foot of his daughter," Jace warned his brother.

"Nevertheless, we are from the royal line, and when he does find out, it will be far too late. Princess Clarissa will be mine." Jace felt very self-assured.

With the last of their belongings packed, they mounted their mares and set off toward Idris at a ground-eating pace.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Clary stood on her third story balcony, watching as two young men made their way into the palace grounds. She had dismissed five suitors already this week, and truthfully, she was in no mood to entertain anymore pompous, self-assured men.

She turned to her handmaiden and allowed her to place upon her head a garnet coronet. Sighing before she spoke out loud, "I guess I had better get down there." She knew her father was in a mood with her. He was rather distressed at her treatment of the last suitors, and Clary had a feeling that he would not tolerate more of her poor behavior. So, as she swept into the room, she plastered onto her face a look of complete serenity, and gracefully sat atop her golden throne.

Prince Lucian eyed her warily, but greeted her warmly all the same. "Daughter, you look radiant." The aging prince smiled.

"Thank you, Papa," Clary demurred, arranging herself neatly in her seat. She had hardly a chance to clear the look of boredom from her face before her father bellowed at the guards.

"Bring them forth!"

Clary hated having to sit in the throne room; she always felt so self-absorbed sitting on the oversized, golden chair. Today was no exception.

The two new suitors were shown into the grandiose room where they bowed deeply to her father, then dropped to a respectful kneel in front of her.

"Sire, I am Alexander, and this is my Brother, Jace. We come before you in the hope that you will allow Jace the honour of competing for the hand of your lovely daughter," The tall, dark haired man spoke.

Prince Lucian rubbed his weary head. "Young man, at this point I believe I may need to accept the suits of common men. No one seems to be able to please my daughter. So while I give my blessing for this young man to compete for her hand, I will not hold my breath that she will find him worthy."

Jace narrowed his eyes at this, but instead of addressing the aging prince, he addressed the flame haired beauty of whom he still knelt in front.

"The only person who need find me worthy of anything is my God. However, I promise you; I will win the hand of your princess."

"Okay, Firstly, I am right here! And secondly, who pray tell says that I am a possession that can be won?" Clary huffed, more than a little irritated that the man before her spoke as if she were not present at all. In a very uncharacteristic display of rudeness, she rose from her throne and fled from the room.

"Well now, that went well, did it not?" Princess Jocelyn asked the gathered men.

**~0~**

Later that evening the princess paced her balcony broodily contemplating the arrogant, self-possessed prince that was currently playing with one of the palace dogs on the sprawling lawn below her.

_At least this one's was my age_, she thought to herself.

The dog yapped as he raised his arm and threw a stick to the far side of the lawn. When it took off in chase, he happened to glance up to where she stood. Seeing the princess above him, he raised an arm and wiggled his fingers in a smug greeting.

Clary sneered, spun on her heel, and returned to her room, slamming the glass doors behind her.

Her ire grew the more she thought about the fact that these men actually believed that she was, essentially, a trophy to be won and placed on a mantle. What she wouldn't give for someone to actually just want to know her for the person she was—and not for the fortune that would come with her hand. Because she was sure that in the end that was all they wanted her for – her money.

"I need to get out of here," she spoke to no one in particular, pulling a pair of plain jeans and a hooded top from her large walk-in robe. With a small amount of difficulty, she unlaced the dress she still wore, and changed in to the nondescript clothing; pulling the hood of the jacket up and over her hair. She was thankful that it fell low, covering her right to her eyebrows.

Without another thought, she left her room and in a moment of true rebellion, she ran for the palace wall and hoisted herself up and over it.

She landed with a soft thud, before her a beautiful city, full of lights sprawled out for as far as the eye could see. Clary felt a surge of adrenaline; it was the first time she had stepped foot out of the palace grounds without some sort of escort. She drew in a deep breath; the air tasted of dirt and rain, and well… freedom. As she exhaled, she stepped out and onto the small dirt path that lead away from the wall. She didn't get far before she heard the steady rhythm of hoofs behind her, so she ran. She ran hard and fast, but still it was not enough, she should have known that someone would catch her.

It only took minutes and there was a large black horse snorting in front of her. The rider leaped from the saddle, and landed with more grace than she could have mustered in a thousand years.

"Going somewhere, Princess?"

It was the suitor, what was his name?

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean." She raised her eyes to his, a haughty look of defiance within them. "I have never so much as set foot out of that palace by myself, in just a few days I will be twenty years old and my father expects me to marry. I ask you, how can one be expected to marry, settle into a life they do not want, give up everything they know and not be allowed even a taste of freedom? Do you know what it is like to be watched twenty-four seven? To be treated as a fine piece of china that will break at any moment?"

Jace contemplated for a moment before shaking his head in a firm no.

"No, I don't suppose you do. You are a male and therefore allowed any freedom you wish. Well, I guess you may escort me back then."

She looked defeated, as though she could cry, and Jace felt terrible.

"Perhaps taking you back is not the answer then this evening. Would you like a tour of the city, Princess?" he offered, sincerity shining from his very core.

Clary was not expecting it, and stood looking confused for quite a few minutes.

"You aren't going to take me back in and tell my father?"

Jace smiled warmly and reached for her hand. "What if I make you a deal? I take you on a tour of the city, no guards, and no escorts. I won't tell your father, but the catch is this, you get to know me."

Clary reeled. She was elated and did not hesitate to step forward and grab hold of his saddle. In one mighty leap, she was astride the beautiful black mare, and in a few moments more, she had her arms around the beautiful prince, holding on securely as he galloped her off and into the night.

Jace showed her all of the sights; the markets and the port, the city's museum, the statue dedicated to her grandparents that stood in the middle of the city. They stopped to eat at a vendor's cart; a kebab on a stick that Clary thought she had never tasted anything so divine in her entire life. The colours mesmerized her, there were little rendered buildings—homes—that were painted in ocher, taupe, azure, and sage. Gardens over flowed with sweet smelling herbs, and flowers and of children playing, and animals grazing. Clary had never known that people lived this way. Without servants or clothes made of the finest silks, she found herself feeling humbled by their honest way of life; she wanted to be part of it.

"The people, they are so lucky," she thought aloud, as she and Jace wandered along a beach that she had never before stepped foot on.

"This is a prosperous city, Princess. It's ruled by a fair king and it shows," Jace told her honestly, before stopping and sitting on a fallen log.

Clary looked at it pointedly for a moment.

"Scared of getting dirty, Princess?" Jace raised an eyebrow, and not wanting to disturb the friendly feel of the evening, Clary joined him.

Behind them, the mare was munching on some seaside scrub, happily ignoring the pair as they chatted. Jace pulled a green apple from one of his pockets and a little flip knife from another.

"Want some?" he offered, turning the apple over in his hand seemingly inspecting it for something.

Clary looked at it warily, then took the piece he offered from his hand. It was cold, sweet, and a little bit tart.

"What made you come here?" she suddenly asked.

"Well, I thought you might like to see the beach," he answered, swiping at a bit of juice that had begun running down his chin.

"Not here as in the beach, silly." She laughed, bumping his shoulder with her own. "Here, as in Idris."

"Well, this really pompous guy told me that there was a ridiculously beautiful princess here that is looking for her Prince. Evidently she is being a bit picky, but shhh, don't tell her I said that."

"I am not picky!" Clary defended vehemently.

"Well that's not what that Lord Lightwood guy said when I passed him on the way in. I think he said something about 'Willful women who have no respect'."

She scoffed. "That guy was a douche. So was the one before him."

"Well, that's a relief!" He laughed at her. He stood then, ditched the apple core, and stuck the little flip knife back into his pocket. "Shall we?" He held a hand out to help her up, which she happily accepted.

When she was standing, she didn't release it; instead she slipped her fingers through his, and glanced at him shyly, waiting for him to react.  
She didn't really know what to expect, but he smiled brightly and lead her back over to the horse. Once she was astride, he hoisted himself into the saddle and once again grabbed her hand.

Quietly Jace maneuvered his horse into the palace grounds. He wasn't particularly worried about being caught, but he knew it would mortify Clary if she were caught at this time of night. Once inside, they lead the mare over to the palace stable, and set her in her stall with a bag of oaten hay.

Clary emerged from hanging the bridle in the tack room, and Jace cautiously reached for her hand. He wasn't sure if the magic of their excursion would continue within the palace walls. For all he knew, she could go back to treating him indifferently. But she again laced her fingers though his and seemed happy to allow him to lead her back to her quarters.

"Thank you, for tonight. It meant a lot to me," she told him from her balcony, gazing deeply into his liquid gold eyes.

"It was my pleasure, Princess," he answered, lost in the green depths of Clary's own eyes.

"Perhaps tomorrow we can go on a daylight tour of the market place? Of course, you will have to have a guard, but still, I think we could have fun."

Clary grinned, and internally, her heart soared. "I'd like that," she told him honestly.

Clary had neither wanted nor expected to like the prince, but as he pulled their joined hands towards his lips, and placed a light kiss on her hand, she knew that she did. Instead of telling him this, she raised her eyebrow. When he released her hand and finally glanced up, he was confused.

"I'm sorry, did I over step my bounds?" he asked, genuinely perplexed.

Clary let out a soft giggle. "No, it was a perfectly fine kiss, for an eighty year old lady." And then she was laughing hard.

In response, Jace wrapped both of his arms around her waist, and pulled her in close to his own body. "Well then, Princess, allow me to rectify my error."

Then he lowered his mouth to her own. His lips were hard, and still tasted sweet and slightly sticky from their shared apple. He kissed her gently at first, and held her so softly, as if the slightest squeeze would break her. It was nice, but Clary had had enough of being treated like fine china, and when he released her lips, she caught his bottom one between her teeth, and bit gently down. That seemed to wake him up, and he pulled her in tighter, groaning as her body molded with his own. Clary's knees went weak, and her head began to spin.

Jace broke away just as she thought she could go on no more.

"Sweet dreams, Princess," his gravelly voice, thick with desire, whispered into her ear.

She raised a hand to her now swollen lips and smiled widely. "Good night, my Prince." And then she turned and walked into her room, leaving him standing on her balcony, staring after her like a love-sick fool.


	2. Chapter 2

Clary and Jace were inseparable for the next three days. They toured the market place, where Jace purchased her a beautifully woven bracelet that one of the locals had made.

She blushed lightly as he tied it to her left wrist, and deeper when he kissed the pulse point that it rested on. But it was rather uncomfortable considering they were being watched constantly by her father's Guard.

They swam in the palace pools, strolled through the menagerie, and generally got to know one another.

As Clary's birthday drew nearer, she found herself thinking that if she had to tie herself to someone, she wanted it to be Jace.

As she sat down to dinner with her mother and father that night, she felt lighter than she had in weeks, and happily prattled to her mother about all of the wonderful things that Jace had said, or that he had done.

"Well, Clarissa, I must say that you seem rather taken with this young man. Could it be that you've finally chosen a suitor?" her father asked around a fork-full of delicious steak.

Clary grinned at her mother and father. "Well now, daddy, don't get too excited but yes, I think that he could be the one."

Her father dropped his fork and stared that the girl across the table from him. He had thoroughly hoped that this would be the case, but having her confirm it filled him with great joy.

"Oh, Clarissa, that is wonderful news!" Her mother smiled, grabbing Clary's hand within her own and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I will organize the meeting with your grandparents then, you will still need the king and queen's approval. I suggest you go prepare your young man," Clary's father suggested.

Clary grinned broadly and excused herself from the table, taking off through the palace at a less than demure pace, to find her prince.

She came upon him, lazing on a blow up sun lounge in the swimming pool, and had to take a moment to gather herself. He was only wearing a pair of black shorts. When they had swum together, he'd worn a black tank top too. Clary marveled at the defining lines and ridges of his chest and stomach, and at the small trail of hair that peeked out from his shorts and traveled to his navel. She had never felt so much desire as she did right then looking at that small spattering of hair.

The clearing of a throat behind her drew Clary's attention. "Can I help you?"

It was the man that had traveled with Jace. Clary had spent little time around him; she couldn't even remember his name.

"Ah…well…yes...I mean no. I came to see Prince Jace, but I see he is occupied. I will come back later," she stammered, blushing like an over eager teenager.

Jace took that moment to flop off his sun lounge, and emerge from the pool. He had not realized that Clary was there until he heard her disjointed stuttering to his brother. He pulled a large fluffy towel from one of the lawn chairs, and flashed a grin.

"I'm never too busy for you; sorry I didn't see you before." He grinned, raising her hand to his mouth, and planting a small kiss there.

Clary shuddered with delight, lowering her eyes so he would not see the telltale sparkle within them.

As she looked down, a small marking on Jace's right hip drew her attention.

Subconsciously she reached her hand forward, brushing her fingers lightly along the top of it, and then lowering the band on his shorts just enough to expose the mark.

For his part, Jace was too shocked to do anything more than look at his brother with wide, terrified eyes. Clary was not stupid, she would know what that mark meant, and he did not know how the hell he would explain it.

Finally getting a grasp of himself, Jace jumped away from her in one swift movement.

Now she understood why he had been swimming with shirts on all this time. Her eyes blazed as she looked up and into his face. "Jonathan?"

"Shit," he breathed simply.

"Princess, please, let us explain," Alec jumped in.

She didn't respond to him, she just stared at the man she thought she was falling in love with. A man that had been banished from her kingdom; a man that her grandfather would never ever approve of.

"You lied to me," it was all she could choke out, before she spun on her heel and fled from them to the safety of her room.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but the sun was only a memory on the horizon; distant hues of orange and pink all that could be seen. There was a gentle knocking on her windows, which she was doing her best to ignore.

Instead of getting up and answering the knock, she turned over in her bed, and faced the other wall. In her quest to concentrate on something other than the knocking, she fidgeted with the bracelet that Jace had bought her days earlier.

How could she have been so blind? She had somehow managed to fall in love with the one person that there was no chance she could be with. There was no way her grandfather would allow her to marry into a family that had attempted to overthrow his throne.

The latch on the door squeaked and Clary spun around just in time to see Jace step through her doors, with a crooked piece of wire in his hand.

"Desperate times," he offered in way of an explanation, before coming to sit at the foot of her bed.

He was clothed now; beautifully fitted black trousers and a cleanly pressed white shirt making him look even more handsome.

"You should have told me," she admonished him straight away.

Jace nodded his head. "What would you have had me say, Clary? 'Hi, Princess, remember me? We used to make mud pies together when we were kids and—oh yeah—my father tried to kill your grandfather'. That would have gone down quite well I imagine."

She groaned and pulled a hand through her hair. "You should have said _something._ What are we going to do, Jonathan? My grandparents will never approve, not in a million years!"

Though Jace knew she was right, he couldn't help the little thrill that went through him. Whether she had said it plainly or not, Clary had just informed him that she had already decided to accept his suit.

"Nobody needs to know," was all he offered.

She shook her head. "No, I can't believe that no one has picked this up already—I can't believe I missed it. You look like him. _Alexander_ looks like him! And you are not a prince! How the heck are we going to explain that one?"

"You are wrong. My father had his title taken from _him_, not _us_. Technically, I am still a prince, as is Alec. Look, Clary, this doesn't have to be a big deal."

And then she lost it. "Not a big deal? Jonathan, your dad tried to kill my grandfather. What part of that is not a _big deal?_ Did he put you up to this?"

"No! He doesn't even know that we are here! Clary, look, I had to come, you were my best friend, and I loved you—I _love_ you! How could I not come?"

She thawed a little at his words, sighing deeply. "My father has scheduled an audience with the king for us tomorrow. I was going to ask for his blessing."

He smiled so brightly then that he couldn't help but scoop her up in his arms and twirl her around the room. Clary giggled and lightly swatted at his chest, begging to be unhanded. Instead, he threw her down on to the bed and swiftly pounced after her. He locked his lips with her own, conveying all the happiness that he felt at her words.

Tongues clashed, hands roamed and soon Clary's head was swimming. She pushed lightly on his shoulders, needing him to back away. For as much as she wanted to continue kissing him, Clary couldn't get the nagging thought out from her head.

"Jonathan, what if they recognize you?" She couldn't bear the thought of being separated from him.

He groaned lightly. "Well, it really would help if you'd stop calling me that. The only one who ever uses that name is my mother—and generally only when I'm in trouble. My name is Jace, and we will cross that bridge when it comes. In truth, it would probably be better if they do recognize me; at least it would be out in the open then."

Clary didn't think that he really meant that. She kissed his lips lightly once more before rising from her bed and indicated the door to him.

"It's getting late, and if we are to see my grandparents tomorrow we should both get some sleep."

"You know, I could just sleep here with you?" Jace suggested with a devilish glint in his eye.

For her part Clary stayed strong, and though she desperately wanted him to stay, she resolutely pointed out to the hall way muttering a simple, "Out." Her small frame wracked with laughter as she watched him saunter back towards the guest wing.

As Clary's doors closed with a soft click, a different young man stepped out from a deep black shadow. He had heard every word that the young couple had uttered, and already was planning how best to use the information to his advantage.

Perhaps _this,_ was the opportunity he'd been waiting for.

**~0~**

A small smile graced the queen's face as she watched her granddaughter sweep into the small chamber that was used for private family matters. "Clarissa, my child, how good to see you. Welcome to you, young man, tell me, are you the one responsible for that lovely glow on my granddaughters face?"

Jace stepped forward slightly, sweeping in to a graceful bow as he responded to the woman who could effectively decide his fate. "I certainly hope so, your majesty."

"Mother, father," Jocelyn greeted the aging pair. "Shall we get these formalities over with so that we can continue on with our days? I see no need to prolong things here."

Here queen lifted her lips in to a small smirk. "As usual, Jocelyn, you are correct. Let us proceed. Clarissa, you have decided upon a suitor?"

"I have," Clary answered quietly, hoping that her nerves were not evident in her voice.

"What is your name, young man?" Clary's Grandfather spoke for the first time. His voice was gruff; a definite no-nonsense feel radiated from him.

"Jace, your majesty," he responded with a clear steady voice.

"Jace? A very unusual name, isn't it? Tell me where are you from, Jace?"

Jace cleared his throat. There was no way to respond without either landing himself in a whole heap of shit, or lying. Either way, it wouldn't be good. "My family resides in the north of France, Sir," he told him as honestly as he could.

The king's eyes narrowed. "France, you say? Who is your father, boy?"

Clary had always respected and loved both of her grandparents. They were always so warm toward everyone—it was one of the many things that made them good rulers—so her grandfather's attitude perplexed her. She'd never seen him be rude to anyone, ever.

"Granddad, is the twenty questions really necessary?" She batted her eyelids, doing her best to look the part of the doting granddaughter.

The king hardly acknowledged her words, he was about to speak when one of the servants stepped forward. The young man was fairly new around the palace, he was the youngest warlock that they had ever employed but his talent had seen him rise amongst the ranks quickly. He was now the king's personal warlock and that meant that he had rather a lot of influence with the king. Clary began to sweat.

"Your majesty, there is a matter that I believe should be brought to your attention." Sebastian bowed low in supplication before his king.

"Stand, and speak," he directed.

Sebastian stood tall. "Sire, the question of this boy's parentage is in fact a pivotal one. The boy is not who he pretends to be. I believe that he seeks to wed the Princess to further his father's interests in Idris."

"Sebastian, speak plainly. What is your grievance with this young man?"

"Yes, Sire. The princess introduced this young man as simply Jace, but perhaps if I were to introduce him by a different name, I think you will understand my grievance. You may remember this boy as Jonathan Morgenstern; he is the child of Valentine Morgenstern."

Several loud gasps could be heard throughout the room, and the scraping of a chair as the king immediately rose to his feet.

"Is this true, boy?" he thundered.

Clary wrapped her hand within Jace's as he stared the king straight in the eyes.

"Yes, it's true."

"You are not welcome in this city, young man. I should have you thrown in the cells for your deception. You have one hour, get out, and do not return."

"Grandfather, no!" Clary rushed forward, grabbing at the old king's elbow, water filling her eyes. "How can you punish him for the sins of another? Jace had no hand in his father's crime."

"I am a lenient man, Clarissa, but I cannot allow this. Lucian, Jocelyn, I am certain that I do not have to remind you of what will happen if a suitable match cannot be made by her birthday."

Clary's eyes widened at his words. "You'd force me to marry some commonplace servant? You must be kidding. They're all so… old." Her nose wrinkled with the disgust that she felt.

"If age is the question Clarissa, I am certain that Sebastian here will make a suitable compromise."

No one moved, no one spoke a word, they all just stood and stared as their sovereign made his decree and left.

Tears rolled down the Princess' face, she was completely gutted.

"Can't either of you do anything?" she demanded of her parents.

"I'm sorry, Clary; it is out of our hands," her mother spoke quietly.

Jace raised his hand to the princess' face, tracing the line of her cheekbones, her delicate eyelids, and finally her lips.

"I'm sorry, Clary."


	3. Chapter 3

_**~Three~**_

Clary hurried, but Jace was fast. There was no way she could catch him. By the time she reached the place he and his brother were, they were already saddling their horses for their journey home.

All at once, she was filled with an incredible rage, _how dare he give up so easily, how dare he not fight for her!_

"So that's it, you're just going to leave? What happened to 'whatever happens we'll face it together' huh?" she yelled at him, taking him completely by surprise as she slapped him hard on the chest.

Jace took a step back, but when Clary advanced again he had no choice but to restrain her, pinning both of her arms to her sides. "What more can I do, Clary? He isn't going to change his mind."

From just behind him Clary could have sworn she heard Alec mutter something along the lines of, "I told you this wouldn't work."

"What more can you do? You can stand up for yourself, that's what you can do! Or take me with you—do you realize what will happen as soon as you step foot out of those gates? They are going to force me to marry that slimy Sebastian. Jace, I love you, I want to be with you."

Jace looked to his brother, but for his part, Alec really thought that the whole expedition had been a fool's errand. He wasn't going to offer any more opinions – Jace only ignored them anyway.

"Go then, get your things. You have fifteen minutes, I won't wait longer."

Clary breathed a sigh of relief and pressed a kiss to his lips, before running harder and faster than she ever had in her entire life towards her chambers.

Sweating and breathing hard, she shoved her doors open, and flew into her oversized dressing room; picking up the only travel case she had ever owned, and throwing it out to her room. It was then that she heard a small voice clear from her bed.

Clary stood warily and walked back out of the closet. There on the end of her bed, sitting as primly as she had ever seen her was Clary's grandmother.

"Clarissa, are you planning a trip?" she asked kindly.

Clary shrugged her shoulders, and shot her grandmother the dirtiest look she could possibly muster. "Why are you here?"

"I am here, child, to stop you from doing something foolish. You cannot follow after the boy."

Clary couldn't help the shout of laughter that escaped from her lips. "I don't intend to go after him, grandmother. I am going _with_ him."

"Well, I suppose that you could go with him, but could you live happily knowing that you could never set foot in your country again? Listen to me, Clarissa, you'll do him more good by staying here and fighting your cause, than running could ever do."

Clary stopped her frantic packing and looked at her grandmother with a perplexed look on her face. "What are you saying?"

"I'm simply saying that running from your problems won't solve them."

"I won't marry the warlock," she stated plainly.

"I have no doubt you mean that completely. But that means that you have work to do, work that cannot be done from outside these walls."

Clary knew that she would not be able to say goodbye to the man she loved. Instead, she stood stoically on her balcony, and watched as he and his brother galloped out of the palace gates. Her only comfort, the fact that she would see to it that he would return for her.

**~0~**

Sebastian Verlac paced the small quarters he had been given in the palace's basement. They were dark, with no natural light to be seen; it was easy to lose track of time there. He was feeling rather smug about having Jonathan Morgenstern thrown out of the palace, and was now setting his sights on ensuring that the princess would be his. Sebastian had a taste for power. The old king was careless and, in his opinion, rather foolish, it had been entirely too easy to slip him the potion that made him respond to Sebastian's every command. It was no secret in Idris, that Prince Lucian did not wish to rule. When the king stepped down, it would be Clarissa and whomever she was wed to that would rule the country. Sebastian would go to any length necessary to ensure that man would be him.

He pocketed the freshly made vial of serum and left his quarters. It was time to dose up the old man.

**~0~**

Celene Fairchild was starting to worry about her husband; Tomas did not seem to be himself. The last few weeks had been stressful to say the least. There had been a rather large shuffle in the palace staffing, a shuffle that had led to him having a new advisor—a warlock no less. Celene had no personal qualms with the boy, but she couldn't help but notice how inseparable the pair had been lately, and how Tomas seemed to take every piece of advice that the boy sent his way.

And if she were honest, she was rather disappointed at how the issue of Prince Jonathan was handled. The boy's parents had received their punishment, and taken it. She didn't see why the child should be punished as well. Especially since, he seemed to make her granddaughter so happy.

That was another factor weighing heavily on her mind. Celene was still worried that Clarissa would sneak off to find the boy. That was something that she could not allow. She had managed to convince her to stay for the time being, and now Celene just hoped that in the three days that were left, she would be able to convince her husband to change his mind. She would not have her granddaughter married to a palace servant.

**~0~ **

Jace stood next to his Andalusian mare, running his hand over her long muscular neck. He had waited as long as he could and she didn't show. Deep down, he knew it was for the best. It was one thing to be thrown out of the palace, to leave in disgrace, but it was entirely another matter to take their princess with him.

It had only been twenty-four hours since he'd left. He'd gotten as far as Brocelind plain before the deep sense of loss truly hit him and he could go no farther. The thought that in two days she would belong to someone else made him angry. The knowledge that it would be that twerp of a servant just plain pissed him off. The warlock wasn't good enough for her; he wasn't even in her class. He wouldn't be able to make her happy like Jace would.

Reluctantly they had set up camp, tethering the horses on a nearby tree. The two brothers sat around the open fire they had built, Jace brooding and Alec feeling anxious to return to their home. He did not want to get caught still within the borders of Idris, but could see the pain that leaving was causing his brother. The day after tomorrow Clary would be married, to a man that she neither knew nor loved. It seemed wrong, even to Alec.

"Jace?" though Alec spoke softly his words seemed loud in the dark expanse of the night. "Do you really love her?" He knew the answer, it was as plain as day that his brother loved Clarissa Fairchild, but he still wanted to hear the words.

"Is the grass green?" Jace replied without an ounce of emotion in his voice.

A simple yes would have sufficed but Alec merely nodded.

"You should go back then," he stated.

"Do you want to see me locked away, brother? If I go back the first person that sees me will have me thrown in the dungeons." Jace raked a hand through his messy blonde curls and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Then don't get caught. Listen to me, if you don't go back for her, then that's it – it's over. They'll marry her off to that weird Warlock. If you really love her, you've got to try."

Jace turned his glass around in his hand staring intently at the glow of the fire in the polished silver goblet. "What if I'm too late?" he whispered, his voice laced with insecurity.

Alec grinned at this, though it probably wasn't the correct response. He had never seen his brother so infatuated with a girl. It was a shame that he wouldn't be able to keep her. "And what if you're not?"

At this Jace looked up; there was hope in his eyes as he threw the goblet down, and went to untie his horse. "You're right, what have I got to lose?"

Jace was rapidly running out of time, by this time tomorrow, Clary would be married. He sent a silent prayer to anyone that would listen, for a miracle to happen.

The Palace finally came within his view and with a sigh of relief he rode the perimeter looking for a place that he could get in undetected. It was dark, but the palace was well lit; he had to choose well.

He dismounted his mare, and slapped her hard on the flank, sending her running back in the direction from where they came. He hoped she'd make it back to where his brother still waited in Brocelind Plain.

As quietly as he could he scaled part of the wall—ironically the same part that Clary had climbed the night of her escape. He landed in the garden, her balcony right in front of him, and breathed a large sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to go too far to find her. It was a matter of fifty meters between her balcony and the garden where he still crouched; Jace thought himself lucky that he was cloaked by the night.

A few minutes passed and when he was certain that there was no one patrolling the garden he ran as fast as he could for the balcony, flying up the steps three at a time and let himself quietly through the door.

Clary was curled in her bed; she looked so peaceful. He sat quietly on the side of her bed and ran his hand over her hair and down her check. Part of him didn't want to wake her from her slumber, but the last day had been hell on him and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms. He knew that it may well be the last chance he would have to do so.

"Clary?" he whispered in her ear, causing her eyelids to flutter. He kept running his hand over her hair; it felt like silk between his fingers.

Finally, her eyes registered him and she sat up, drinking in the sight of him.

"Jace?" her voice was full of surprised delight; she hadn't expected to see him again, and certainly not in her room.

"I couldn't let you marry him without doing this just once more," he whispered leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.

They moved in sync, and when her warm tongue passed between his lips he almost melted. It glided along his own, soft and sweet. He shifted himself so that he lay atop her, though still above her quilt. His hands glided down her shoulders coming to rest on her supple breasts; her nipple immediately puckered beneath his hands. As their kissing intensified, she let out a throaty moan before breaking away, breathing heavily. "I thought you were gone," she cried wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I was, I got all the way to Brocelind plain, and then, I just had to come back for you."

It was her undoing. Tomorrow she would be forced to marry a man she didn't want, and she'd be damned if she wouldn't allow herself one night of pleasure.

Surely, she was entitled to that.

Clary tugged lightly on Jaces neck, pulling him back down to her and kissed him with all the urgency she felt inside. Her hands wandered, feeling the bunched muscles of his shoulders and his back. His arms felt like steel beneath rough skin.

She wanted to feel more of him. She rose from the bed and shifted until Jace lay beneath her. She lifted his dark t-shirt exposing the hard lines of his chest; kissing every single space of skin as she went. Soon the shirt was on the floor, and she'd lifted her own over her head, throwing it to the floor to join Jace's; leaving her chest bare before him.

He didn't hesitate to lift up and take one of her pert nipples between his teeth, biting down softly then running his tongue over the hardened flesh. Clary threw her head back, enjoying every sensation coursing through her.

Their hips ground together, moving to a rhythm that only they knew. Somehow, the delicate cream quilt had tangled at their feet, their legs tangled around one another.

Clary loved the feel of Jace below her and before long, she was reaching for the button on his jeans. He raised his hips making it easier for her to lower them down his long lean legs. She couldn't help but admire the light splattering of hair that trailed from his belly button to down below his black boxer shorts. She lowered her lips and kissed all the way down to the band that covered the part she most wanted to see and feel.

Jace groaned as she traced her hand lightly over the hardness in his shorts. He wanted her badly, but at this moment, he also wanted to let her lead the way. He wasn't sure how far she would let it go and he thought it was hot as hell.

His hands traced the outline of her body, running from the inside of her breasts, down her sides and then over her flat stomach. Her long, curly red hair fell in waves down her taught little body. She looked like a goddess.

"Clary," he had nothing more to say than her name; it was a caress that passed through his lips.

His hand reached her narrow hips and tangled in the waistband of her sleep pants. This time he pushed her back, angling her hips so that he could pull the pink flannelette monstrosities off and away from her. Her Panties were a functional pink cotton, nothing particularly erotic, but still they made Jace harden even more at the sight of them. He ran his tongue around her shallow little belly button and smirked as she visibly shivered from the sensation.

"You taste so good," he groaned, before continuing to kiss his way down her bare abdomen; pausing slightly when he reached the little pink panties. "I bet you taste even better here," he teased, running the tip of his nose over her heated centre before biting down gently on her hard bundle of nerves.

Clary moaned low and throaty and pushed her hips up, dying for him to touch her.

"Allow me," he teased, before ripping the cotton panties from her body and throwing them somewhere he hoped she'd never be able to find.

"Jace, please," she wasn't entirely sure what she was begging for, she only knew that she was aching; she needed him.

Jace let out a dark chuckle, running a finger slowly up and down her wet folds before again burying his face in the place he most wanted to be. He ran his tongue over her, in a hard, swift lick, swirling it around as he pushing his fingers into her, and curled them upwards.

Jace knew what he was doing and for Clary it was torture and the purest bliss all at once.

He pulled a little way out of her then pushed back in, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. Clary knotted her hands in her hair; she could feel herself coming apart.

"Jace!" she called, just once. Her body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, her face red and her eyes rolling back in her head.

Jace lifted his mouth from her core, and rose to nibble on her neck; he could feel her muscles beginning to bunch around his fingers.

"Clary, I want you to come for me," he ordered lowly, biting down on her earlobe.

Clary could already feel that delightful knotting in her stomach, and soon her whole body was a flame. Heat flooded her as her orgasm ripped through her body, making her shake in Jaces arms.

Jace could wait no longer, gently he lowered her to her pillow and braced his body atop hers; lining himself up with her centre. Clary looked at him through lidded lashes, biting down on her lip as a feeling of trepidation ran through her.

Not a word was uttered; Jace just kept staring down at her. What he was looking for Clary wasn't sure but soon she found herself writhing under his heavy glaze. Her body had not had enough of him.

She lifted her hips towards his, showing him silently that she wanted it; wanted him. He'd get no hesitation from her.

Jace lifted his lips up in to a devilish smirk and in a swift movement had himself sheathed inside of her. She was warm and oh so tight, and Jace knew that if he moved too quickly this would all be over in a matter of minutes. He didn't want that so he stayed put and allowed Clary to explore his body with her hands, enjoying the feel of her soft skin running over his heated flesh

Clary's hand moved to his chest, tracing the hardened muscles she found there; she wanted to memorize every single part of him. After tonight, her memories would be all she had.

Once Jace thought that he had control of himself, he lifted his hips a little way from her, and rocked back in, hissing as he was again, sheathed in her tightness.

Clary groaned, loving the feel of him deep within her; touching her as no one had before.

Before long, they found their rhythm, moving together; harder and deeper with each thrust. Jace tangled his hands with Clary's, while the little noises she was making, drove him towards his release so quickly he almost didn't see it coming.

"Shit, Clary," he gasped, as he slammed back into her tiny frame once more.

Clary couldn't speak, she was lost, drowning in Jace; every nerve ending like a live wire. Jace shuddered above her, grunting a string of words she couldn't understand, clinging to her like the world itself was about to end.

He bent down and caught a nipple between his teeth and this time, when he bit, he bit down hard. Clary screamed, as her orgasm rocked through her, carrying her away on a tidal wave of pleasure.

"Clary, shhhh!" Jace admonished, holding a hand over her mouth and praying that no one had heard her. Her eyes widened as she nodded her understanding and Jace removed his hand from her mouth, replacing it with his lips. "That was…" He shook his head, expelling a large breath. "I love you, Clary."

She smiled then, moving and settling into the crook of his neck. "I love you too."

That night they slept wrapped in each other's arms, basking in their love and refusing to acknowledge that in the afternoon, Clary would be married to another man.

**~0~**

The sun dawned over the horizon early the next morning. Soft rays of light filtered in through the sheer curtains, waking Jace from the most peaceful sleep he'd had in a long time. Today was the day, and as much as he never wanted to leave her, Jace knew that he would never be able to sit by and watch the woman he loved marry another man. So silently, he gathered his clothes, planted a light kiss on Clary's forehead, and left the room. He did not leave from the balcony though; something with in him drove him towards the ornate wooden doors that lead to the interior of the palace.

He inched them open as quietly as he could and tiptoed out into the hallway. It was still dark but thankfully empty. He flew down the hallway, following it until it ended in a staircase that lead to a small antechamber behind the throne room.

Silently he went down, pausing in the antechamber when he heard a voice.

"Ten short hours and you'll be mine," a deep voice crooned.

Jace couldn't see where it had come from but there didn't seem to be a reply. He crept forward, peeking around the corner.

Sebastian was slung over Prince Lucian's throne, his feet dangling from one of the arms as though he owned it; a bejeweled crown dangling from his long fingertips.

He twirled it around, seemingly mesmerized by the shining object.

"Well perhaps a little more than ten hours." He smirked to himself. "First I need to make Clarissa mine, and what fun that will be. I wonder if she likes it rough? And as soon as she is mine, the king dies, and I will rule Idris!"

Jace gasped and threw himself back behind the wall as Sebastian jumped from the chair and stalked out of the room, leaving the crown rolling around on the floor.

Had he really just said he was going to kill the king? Jace had to do something. He spun, running up the stairs two at a time. At the top, he crashed right into Queen Celene.

"Shit," he muttered as he righted himself.

Celene gazed down at Jace, a blank look on her face. "I thought you were told to leave this place, Jonathan?"

"I know, I did, but then…."

She held up a hand stopping him in his tracks. "But then you snuck back on to the grounds and into my granddaughter's bedroom; where I believe you both made quite a ruckus." Her face was still blank and Jace was honestly terrified.

He had been certain that no one saw him come in, and yet the queen knew that he had been… intimate with her granddaughter. He sighed knowing that he was in a shit load of trouble.

"I overheard Sebastian, he is going to kill the king—he wants to rule," he spat out before he could even think about what he was saying.

Celene nodded. "I heard. What do you intend to do about it?"

Jace looked at her blankly. _Do about it? What could he do about it?_

"I don't know," he told her honestly.

Celene arched one perfectly manicured eyebrow at him. "Well, I suggest you come up with something, and do it quickly. There is not much time, young man." At that, she turned around and opening the door directly behind her, and returned to her room.

Celene could very well have stopped the warlock herself, but she knew that leaving it to Jace was the only way her husband would allow him to be with Clary.


	4. Chapter 4

**~Four~**

Begrudgingly Clary stepped into the antique white lace dress. She had always dreamed of being married in her grandmother's gown, but now that the time had come, she was miserable. A tear rolled down her face as she sniffled. Her personal maid stood behind her with a hook, slowly making her way up Clary's back, and lacing each and every button as she went. There were over three hundred.

Clary had felt a deep sense of loss when she awoke to find Jace gone. Deep inside she knew that he wouldn't be able to stay, and she was beyond thankful that they had, had last night; but already she missed him.

She was glad that if she was going to be forced to give Sebastian her hand, she couldn't be forced to give him her virginity. She'd always known that she would only give that to someone she loved.

That someone had been Jace.

The maid laced the last of the buttons and turned Clary around. "You look beautiful, princess," she offered with a small curtsy before leaving Clary, desperately trying to get herself together.

She took a good long look at herself in the mirror, and wiped the tearstains from her face. "I can do this," she chanted to herself before slipping on her shoes and heading to the throne room where she knew they were all gathered and waiting for her.

**~0~**

Jace waited deep in the shadows of the room, he knew he couldn't be seen; so he waited, biding his time in silence.

It wasn't long before Sebastian appeared, sauntering over to where the white suit was laid out on the queen sized bed. As he pulled the long black tunic from over his head, Jace stepped out of the shadows.

"I've been waiting for you, Verlac," he spoke quietly. Jace was turning a rather large blade over in his hands.

"Jonathan, what a pleasant surprise. Have you come to watch me marry your little girlfriend?"

"I don't think so; you won't be getting anywhere near Clarissa."

"I guess you will be in for a rude shock when I send you our blood stained sheets, won't you," he sneered.

Jace glared, furious that Sebastian would even consider sleeping with Clary. "I hate to disappoint you, Verlac, but I beat you to that." He smiled and pulled the little pink cotton panties from his pocket, lifting them to his nose and breathing in deeply, before dangling them from his fingers.

Sebastian reached for the ceremonial sword that was sheathed in a holster on the bed. He drew it out and shoved it at Jace. "You had better hope that you are bull-shitting, Morgenstern, because if you aren't, I'll kill her while you watch." Sebastian's face shone with fierceness and Jace didn't doubt that he meant the words.

"You could try. But you'll need to get through me first."

Sebastian lunged forward, but Jace was fast, he ducked and rolled forward, knocking Sebastian to the ground with a swift kick behind his knee. The sword fell from his hands, its silver blade glittering in the sunlight. Sebastian crawled forward, reaching for the sword, and then crying out in pain as Jace stood swiftly on his fingers. In one swift movement he had the sword in his hands, it flashed as it twirled around in Jace's hands.

"You know, next time you plan to kill a king, you might not want to brag about it. This place has ears," he whispered dramatically.

Sebastian roared with rage, he scrambled to his feet, kicking over a suit of armour as he went. It crashed to the ground in loud metallic heap, loud enough that someone would have heard.

Jace was out of time and he knew it. He drew the sword back and raised it, a flash of pure white light shot around the room. The swords whistling breath cut the air with a wail as Jace brought it down in a whirling arc.

Sebastian fell to the ground in a broken heap. With a metallic ping, Jace dropped the bloodied sword to the floor; he could hear footsteps in the distance, six distinct sets.

He stood in the middle of the room, the door wide open, awaiting his fate.

**~0~**

The room was choked full of flowers of every description. Celene shook her head at the distasteful display. Whoever was decorating the palace these days would soon be on the unemployment line.

The King sat impassively at the front of the room with their daughter and her husband, his golden robes clashing badly with the ornate wooden furniture. There were no witness' gathered; this was not a happy occasion for anyone involved. The fact that a princess was about to marry a commoner was not something they needed to broadcast.

Celene took her seat beside her husband and their daughter. She lightly placed her hand on his knee, squeezing it gently.

The doors were thrown violently open and as one, they turned to the back of the room watching as three guards dragged a blood-splattered boy into the room.

King Tomas rose from his chair. "What is this? There had better be a good reason that you are interrupting my granddaughters wedding day," he demanded.

The boy raised his head and looked Celene right in the eyes. She gasped, the blood he was covered in was not his own.

"Lord Verlac is dead, your majesty. Morgenstern killed him," the largest of the guards spoke.

Jocelyn and Lucian rose too now, gaping at the guard.

"_Lord Verlac, _was going to kill Clarissa as soon as they were married and the king would have been next," Jace shouted.

"The boy is a liar, take him away. Jocelyn you had better go and find Clarissa," the king demanded with a wave of his hand.

"Actually," Celene who had been silent thus far, spoke quietly; still everyone in the room heard her clearly. "The boy is not lying, I overheard Verlac myself."

"Celene, you cannot cover for him." Tomas scowled.

"I am doing no such thing. In fact, I happen to have proof. She pulled a small tape from a tiny pocket in her silver dress jacket and handed it to Filipe.

He turned it over in his hands, looking to his wife questioningly.

"Smith, release the boy please?" she asked the guard that still held Jace, twisting his arms painfully behind his back.

Smith looked to the King who gave an imperceptible nod. Jace stumbled, a massive grin on his face as he was shoved away from the oversized guard.

**~0~**

The footage from the throne room proved everything that Jace had claimed was true. It clearly showed Sebastian, and caught every word of his plot to kill the king so that he could rule the kingdom.

King Tomas was in debt to the boy.

For her part, Clary was glad that Jace had killed him; she had felt physically sick as she watched the footage with the rest of her family while knowing that Jace was locked in the cellars far below her. Thankfully, he was only there for a matter of hours, before the king had summoned him.

They were assembled in the courtyard. Clary had changed out of the bridal gown and felt much more comfortable and happy in the light sweater and jeans she wore. She smiled widely as Jace walked nervously through the garden, he was clean now, the top of his shirt open exposing the expanse of taught skin at his chest.

A small shiver ran through Clary as the memory of the night before flashed behind her eyelids.

"Sire." Jace bowed formally to the king. For all he'd been through, Clary would have thought that he might have been rude. But no, Jace had remained his respectful self.

"Do not bow before me, Jonathan. I've treated you terribly and owe you a great deal." Tomas was feeling rather contrite.

Jace rose shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. "Thank you, sire, but truly you owe me nothing," he mumbled. He was actually just glad to be getting out of this alive.

"Oh, I guess that you don't want your reward then?" Tomas asked ruefully, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Reward?" Jace asked feeling more than a little confused. He was expecting to be shown the door, not getting a reward.

"Yes, young prince. We believe that your loyalty deserves to be rewarded," Celene spoke, stepping from behind the fountain and resting her hand atop Clary's shoulder.

Jace shook his head sadly. "The title of Prince is not mine. My father lost that right for me, I will not pretend otherwise." Jace thought that complete honesty was probably the best policy at this point.

"Yes, he did but you see, as a queen I have certain... powers if you will. One of them is the right to re-instate your title and that of your brother. Your father's punishment still stands. But you, Jonathan are hence forth welcome within this palace at any time, and you shall be addressed as Prince Jonathan."

Clary gasped and spun to look at her grandparents; her eyes wide, and brimming with tears. "Does this mean?" she couldn't finish the words but Celene knew what she was asking all the same.

"Yes, child, it does. You have our blessing."

Clary didn't hesitate one moment; she flew in to Jace's arms, wrapping him in her own.

Jace lowered his face and breathed in the scent of her, before looking up and meeting Queen Celene's eyes. "Thank you," he cried, and scooped Clary up in his arms spinning her around and around.

"Marry me?" he uttered, searching her face.

It lit up in a bright smile and she answered him with one word, "Yes."


End file.
